


The Middle of Nowhere | The Road Home

by Molly



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, season:two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-19
Updated: 2008-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:15:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly/pseuds/Molly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>In which Clark lies to his mother, Lex lies to himself, and absolutely no waffles appear at any time.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Middle of Nowhere

A mist hung low over the flat waters of the lake. Silent, still night --   
rare for Kansas. Its wide, unbroken plains usually nurtured even the   
slightest breeze into a gale. It was bothersome -- it was progress   
without destination, energy spent toward no useful goal. It made him feel   
perpetually as if something immense were about to happen, and every second   
that passed unchanged from the second before ate away at his patience.

Still, there was Clark. Lex skipped a stone across the surface of the   
lake, shattering the quiet and disturbing the water and the mist. Five   
skips, one for each week he'd known Clark Kent. It meant something.   
Since he'd met Clark, everything seemed to have meaning. Most things   
seemed to have more than one.

Every star in the universe was clearly visible above him. It made the   
night silver blue instead of the black he liked best. In Metropolis you   
never got true darkness, but there were no city lights to reflect sodium   
orange off the sky above Smallville. No neon signs, no legions of   
expensive cars prowling the streets with headlights blazing. He'd   
expected to hate Smallville, and he'd actually managed to work up a very   
healthy contempt for it, but he had to admit, the darkest country nights   
had something special. The stars, beautiful as they were, kind of spoiled   
that.

"Lex?"

He smiled before he had time to think about it. "Perfect timing, Clark.   
I was just starting to get maudlin."

"Yeah?"

"The stars, the lake, the quiet... If you hadn't shown, I might have   
written a poem."

Clark raised his eyebrows. "That would be something to see."

"I'm hurt. You think I have no poetry in my soul?"

"I didn't say that." Clark came closer, stood shoulder to shoulder with   
Lex, and looked up. He was smiling, barely, just at the corners of his   
mouth. "I just doubt you have any good poetry in your soul."

That surprised a laugh out of Lex. It had been a long time since anybody   
had made fun of him -- longer still since anyone had done it like that, so   
they could both laugh. So it didn't cut. "I don't know how much Luther   
Corp. is paying you to be my friend, but whatever the amount, that crack   
just got you docked."

"I couldn't take money for that. It would be like getting paid for   
breathing. Too easy."

A minute passed before Lex could think of anything to say. He didn't   
think well around Clark, and strange things happened. Like smiles without   
motives, like speechlessness, like the sensation of pressure in his chest   
that made him want to do... something. Be something. He caught his   
breath and laughed again.

"Lex?"

"That's why I run a business, and you run tractors. If anyone ever offers   
you money for breathing, Clark? I advise you to take it."

"Whatever."

Irritation had replaced amusement in Clark's voice. Lex tried to remember   
that quick, dismissive note from past conversations, but this was a first.   
"Clark?"

Clark shrugged. He looked at Lex for a second, and then at the lake.   
"Nothing."

"It's clearly not nothing."

"You called me out here in the middle of the night, Lex. I had to tell my   
mother you were having a produce emergency."

Lex grinned. "I wasn't going to mention it, but I do think those organic   
apples taste kind of weird."

"I also had to tell her you were Chloe."

"That's going to be a little harder to fix. Still, I feel outrage and   
suspect Lionel Luthor of unsavory business practices. I think Smallville   
is strange and want to get to the bottom of it." He looked carefully at   
Clark, with just enough humor to register. "I like you. Close enough?"

Clark was smiling again, laughing at him. It made Clark seem suddenly less   
complicated, made Lex feel good and a little bored at the same time.   
Clark's laughter didn't pose the same kind of challenge his irritation   
did. It was odd to know that, and to like hearing it anyway.

"You still haven't told me what I'm here for." Clark stuck his hands in   
his back pockets and raised his eyebrows. "Somehow I don't believe it's   
just about communing with nature."

"Unfortunately, you're right. I'm actually in need of some advice."

"You," -- Clark smiled like he didn't believe it -- "need advice from   
me."

"It's personal. It's actually kind of a...people thing. Let's sit for   
this, Clark."

"What, on your car?" His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. "What if   
I ding it?"

Lex laughed. "I was actually thinking _in_ my car, but I like your   
idea better. Go on -- you're ten feet tall, but I don't think you weigh   
enough to do any serious damage."

Clark rolled his eyes and gave Lex a little shove on his way around to the   
hood. He tested the give with a hand like he was testing the firmness of   
a mattress. Lex looked up at the sky and prayed to no one in particular   
for patience. Shaking his head, he hopped up onto the hood, leaned back   
on his elbows, and crossed his legs at the ankle. His heels banged   
against the metal. "See? No harm, no foul."

Carefully, Clark pulled his feet up and sat cross-legged, elbows on his   
knees. "Okay. I'm ready to offer you sage advice."

"You could at least pretend to take this seriously."

Clark shrugged. "I'm sorry. It's just a little strange. I don't think   
anyone's ever asked me for advice before."

"Not even your friends? Pete? Chloe?"

"Pete asks Chloe. And Chloe thinks I need help getting my shoes tied and   
my hair combed every morning."

"I didn't bring you here to tie my shoes, and I haven't needed my hair   
combed since I was nine."

Clark grinned. "Then I'm your guy."

Lex leaned back against the windshield and crossed his arms behind his   
head. Now that everything was in place, he was reluctant to actually   
begin. Part of him hadn't really expected Clark to come. "Nice night."

"Lex--"

"I'm actually being sincere. I don't think I knew what night really   
looked like until I came to Smallville. Too much ambient light. It's   
oppressive. I like this kind of night." Lex looked at Clark. He   
couldn't see anything in Clark's eyes, no shadows, no lies. And yet there   
had to be more to him. There was more to him. He was a hook. Something   
in Clark demanded examination. Maybe he was just oblivious. "What about   
you?"

"You said you had something important to ask me."

"Of course, I wouldn't even be here to see it, if not for you. I haven't   
really had a chance to thank you for that. I keep trying, but you keep   
returning my gifts."

"You keep trying to give me the crown jewels. I'm afraid one day I'll   
find the Hope Diamond in my mailbox."

Lex shrugged with one shoulder and smiled. "It's no more than you   
deserve. You gave me my life."

"If there were anything you could give me of equal value, I'd take it.   
But since I don't actually think you can put a price tag on a human   
life--"

"I've met someone. Someone I like."

Clark blinked. His eyebrows drew together. "Okay, new topic."

Liking somebody. That was new. It felt like affection, or like he had   
always imagined affection might feel, but he didn't have anything to   
compare it to. First he felt grateful to Clark, and then when that wore   
off there was something left, something that didn't fade when he stopped   
paying attention to it. He liked Clark. A part of him was almost   
ashamed. The rest...

The rest was almost having fun.

"Lex, if this is going to come out one sentence per hour--"

Lex nodded. "Sorry. This is difficult for me. You might not believe   
this, Clark, but my experience of the world has been very narrow.   
Business, I know. Getting people to do what I want them to do, I know.   
Getting people to like me... I've never even wanted to do that. I don't   
know where to start."

"Is this somebody you like...or somebody you, you know, _like_?"

"Does it matter?"

Clark raised his eyebrows. "I guess the strategy is the same for the   
first few yards."

"So, what's my first step, Coach Kent? How do I convince this new   
acquaintance that the friendship of Lex Luthor is not without value?"

"Well, to start with, you could stop treating the friendship of Lex Luthor   
like it's something you can trade on the New York Stock Exchange."

"There's an IPO on Thursday."

"A what?"

Lex smiled. "What else?"

"Tell me about this person. Is it a guy, or a girl? Likes, dislikes?"

"Definitely a guy. Young. Younger than me, anyway. I don't know him very   
well yet. As far as I can tell, his turn-ons are farm animals, big   
trucks, and emerald-eyed freshmen girls. Hobbies include football,   
solving crimes, and thwarting the process of natural selection."

He couldn't see Clark's blush, but he knew it was there. It was in the   
way Clark dipped his head, and then looked back up and smiled with his   
whole face. "So. Can you help me?"

"I...may have some ideas."

"Hand them over."

"Well, he probably doesn't need to be tricked into hanging out with you.   
Instead of making up a lame story about needing advice from a teenager,   
you could try calling him and saying, 'Hey, I'm bored, want to come over?'   
He'd probably come. Have you considered the possibility that this guy   
likes you already?"

"Oh, I doubt it. He's read all my bad press. His parents think I'm a bad   
influence. His friends think I'm shallow. Practically his entire   
hometown thinks I eat babies for breakfast and pick my teeth with the   
bones."

"Maybe he has a mind of his own. Maybe he sees something in you they   
don't."

"Maybe they see something he doesn't. Or maybe there's nothing to see."

Clark frowned, and leaned closer. "Lex, maybe _you've_ been reading   
too   
much of your bad press."

"And maybe you just don't want to think the life you saved could be a bad   
one."

"I'm not that naive."

Lex sat up and faced Clark. He took both of Clark's hands in his. "You   
pulled me out of the water with these. You had no idea who I was. If you   
had known, maybe you wouldn't have moved so quickly. If you knew now...   
maybe you'd regret it."

"I wouldn't."

"You might."

Clark jerked back his hands. "Then tell me! If you're so horrible, Lex,   
tell me what it is that you've done that I'm supposed to hate you for,   
that's supposed to make me want you dead. Because all you've ever been is   
generous and kind to me from the moment we met."

"We met when I plowed my car into you, Clark. That was neither generous   
nor kind."

"It wasn't on purpose, either. And besides, you missed me."

Lex closed his eyes. Thinking, thinking was the key here. Thinking was   
clean and reliable. Right now he was just...emoting, pressing point after   
point, hoping to push Clark past some inner limit, for no rational   
purpose. It wasn't smart. Clark was young, but he also wasn't. He might   
not have a limit.

It was out of control. He had to think.

"I don't want to think I'm the first person in your life who ever liked   
you," Clark said quietly. "But if I am, that's okay. You're not your   
father, and if you think you are, well, you don't have to be. You can be   
my friend, instead."

Words like knives. Lex tried to shake them off, and couldn't. They   
penetrated. It was the night, and the stars, and that damned wind. The   
setting was built for just this kind of sentimental nonsense. He'd go   
home, he'd slide between silk sheets, and in the morning he would be   
himself again. The fit would pass.

He opened his eyes, opened his mouth to thank Clark politely and   
perfunctorily for taking part in this ill-conceived charade. But Clark   
was still looking at him, earnest and concerned and young and beautiful   
and kind. Worried, for him. When had anyone ever looked at Lex like   
that?

"I could do things for you." He looked up at Clark and felt helpless,   
completely adrift. "I don't know if the rumors have made it out to Kent   
Farm, but people say I'm very rich. I could give you things."

"I know that," Clark said. "But don't. That's how you make business   
deals. It's not how you show you care about somebody."

Lex laughed. The sound was oddly muffled by the wind. "It's how Luthors   
show it."

"Yeah, well, Luthors don't know everything."

"How do Kents show it?"

Clark grinned. "We lie to our parents, show up on deserted roads in the   
middle of the night without knowing why, and give lectures."

"The lecture, that's mandatory? You couldn't just...give me a tractor, or   
something?"

"We only have the one."

Lex cleared his throat. The wind was getting colder. "If those are my   
options...I'll take the maniac farm boy behind door number two."

"Good."

And that appeared to be it. Clark with his chin propped up on one hand,   
expressionless, satisfaction blazing out of him. He couldn't hide an   
emotion to save his own life, that kid. It was all there on his face, no   
barriers. No fear. It made Lex angry, and a little jealous. It made his   
chest tight.

It made him want to look that way himself, but he didn't know how, and he   
didn't think his face could conform to that much ease. Clark's face   
relaxed into kindness. Lex didn't know what his own face would relax   
into, so he just looked at Clark and tried to put his thoughts in order.

"I'll let you give me a ride home..." Clark offered, smiling slightly.   
"If you absolutely have to give me something."

Lex slid off one side of the car, and Clark slid off the other. "How did   
you get here, anyway?"

"Walked."

"Three miles? In the middle of the night? Through muddy fields?" Lex   
tilted his head, and frowned. "And then put your feet on my _car_?"

"This guy you like? You should never get mad at him for getting your car   
dirty."

Lex cut a glance over the roof at Clark. "Is that some   
kind of mortal insult to farm boys?"

"They think of sharing dirt as kind of a bonding thing," Clark said   
earnestly.

Lex narrowed his eyes. "A bonding thing."

"Absolutely."

His first real act of friendship would be teaching Clark how to lie   
properly. The wide eyes and the sincere nodding were good, but he was way   
overselling it. Lex sighed and opened his door. "I'll take you home, but   
the shoes are not coming with you."

"I can't just leave them here--"

"I'll buy you new ones." Lex held up a hand. "I do know one thing about   
friendship, Clark. It's a two-way street. Sometimes we do things your   
way, and sometimes--"

"--I get new shoes."

"Exactly."

"You could just have your car detailed or something."

Lex started the car and revved the engine. He felt like driving really   
fast. He felt a little like he already was driving really fast, on a very   
twisty road, with no headlights. "I could hire you to detail my car," he   
said, smiling as Clark climbed into the passenger seat. He hit the gas   
again, and the engine roared. "You would find me a very generous   
employer."

"I'm not allowed to work for the bad element until after I turn eighteen."

Lex flicked on the headlights, and shook his head. "I knew I'd hate the   
country."

  
 

   



	2. The Road Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Lex learns a little more about Clark and friendship and auto repair, and Clark learns a little more about, well, sex. _

"So," Clark said. "Nice night."

A novel way to say 'I told you so.' Considering the circumstances, Lex was impressed by Clark's bravery. "We've covered that."

"Yeah."

Lex clenched his teeth, and didn't look at him. He kept his hands on the wheel, where he could see them. "Did you have anything else you wanted to say, Clark?"

"No, no, nothing."

Lex closed his eyes. So, he'd been driving a little fast. The road was empty and straight, the headlights were strong, the fog lights cut through the mist like lasers. They'd been doing something like sixty; Lex drove faster than that down his own driveway. He got out his cell phone and started to dial.

"Lex, wait."

His thumb hovered over the send button. "What?"

"Don't you have a spare?"

Lex frowned. "A spare what?"

That grin shot out, powerful even in the dim blue light from the dash. At the moment, it wasn't terribly endearing. "A spare tire, Lex. To replace the one you just blew out."

Lex snapped the phone shut and reached deep inside for patience. "Okay, first, I didn't blow out the tire. A crater the size of Metropolis in the middle of the road, a crater that should have been fixed around the time you were born, blew out the tire. And second, I have no idea if I have a spare tire. I assume, if I'm supposed to have one, I do." If he was supposed to have one and didn't, someone was going to pay for it with his job. And possibly a limb.

Clark nodded, his eyes wide, his face oh, so innocent. "Do you know if you have a trunk?"

"You know you're walking home, right?"

"Can't." Clark grinned. "No shoes."

Lex dropped his head back against the seat and sighed. "I have people who do these things for me."

"I don't see any of them here."

"Assuming there's a spare, do you know what to do with it?"

"Are you kidding? Have you seen my dad's truck? I've changed its tires more times than I've changed my underwear." Clark climbed out, then stuck his head in through the window. "Pop the trunk."

He did, then followed Clark to the back of the car. He found Clark pulling equipment from the trunk with both hands, smiling happily. Clark's breath misted in the air in front of him, and Lex shivered on his behalf. Not that Lex's jacket was helping that much, either.

The yellow trunk light turned Clark a little sallow. It should have rendered him completely unattractive, but that wasn't the way Lex's luck was running tonight. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"This is great, Lex! You've got everything we need and most stuff we don't. Spare tire, tire iron, jack, jumper cables, flashlights, bottled water, first aid kit, transistor radio...Oreos?" Clark looked up. "Better that than eating your fellow travelers, I guess."

"Don't think I've rejected that option."

Frowning, Clark reached into the trunk. When his hand came back up, a pair of silver handcuffs dangled, glittering, from one finger. He looked an interested question at Lex, smirking.

Lex hadn't known Clark _could_ smirk. Calmly, he took them away and pocketed them. "I'll tell you when you're older."

"We do get cable TV here, Lex."

"Really? In color?"

Clark gave him a dark look, then rolled the spare tire around to the front of the car. "I'm going to need you to hold the flashlight for me."

While Lex kept the beam steady, Clark positioned the jack. He looked like he knew what he was doing. And it wasn't as if Lex couldn't have three cars just like it in his driveway by noon tomorrow, but he hadn't had unprecedented and disturbing conversations with Clark Kent on the hoods of any of those. "I'm not sure I should be letting you do this."

"Lex, I know what I'm doing."

"I don't doubt that. I'm just not sure you're aware that mechanics have to be certified by a special board just to stand in the same room with this car."

"I'll keep that in mind. Can you bring the light closer?"

"Does that thing have to actually touch--"

"Only the frame. Then we raise it up a few inches, swap out the tires, she'll be good as new. You know, it wouldn't hurt you to learn how to do this. One of these days you'll be zooming along like Andretti, pop a tire, and I won't be around to help you. You'll have to call somebody on your cell phone, then wait hours in the middle of a cornfield for some lackey to come to your rescue."

"I've got a cell phone, a laptop, a CD player, water, and Oreos. I could run my entire business from this car for a week. And anyway--Hey, what is that?" Lex squinted, peering into the darkness behind Clark. "I think I see eyes out there."

Clark didn't even turn. "Probably Mr. Hayden's milk cow. We're in the right area, and she likes to wander. Don't worry. Cows are vegetarians."

"Just tell me her name's not Bossy."

Clark tilted his head and frowned. "Um, no. Georgette. Ignore her, she'll ignore us. She probably just wondered what the big drama was all about."

"I don't think she likes me, Clark. The last time I saw a look like that, your father was wearing it."

"You're jiggling the light."

"Sorry."

"My father will come around. He can already say your name without spitting. It's just a matter of time."

"That's a comfort."

Clark's eyes flicked up. For just a second there was more question in them than kindness, a bright, surgical curiosity. A look like that could see right through a man, even a man like Lex. He wanted to back away from it, but he stood his ground. Clark would see...whatever he would see.

Lex met the questions head-on, and Clark's eyes softened. "My dad thinks he's looking out for me."

"I know that."

"He doesn't really know you."

"There aren't many who do, Clark."

"I'm starting to. I mean, I want to. If you want me to. You know what I mean." Clark blushed, and moving the light off his face would have been the kind thing to do, but Lex didn't. "I don't care...I don't give a damn what my father thinks of you. He's wrong this time."

Lex crouched down to Clark's level. "I value your trust. It means a lot to me; I want you to know that."

"Good." Clark turned back to his work, straining to twist the tire iron. "You could trust me a little, too."

Lex frowned, and replayed that in his head. "You think I don't?"

"I'm not an idiot, Lex. You think I'm slumming or something, like you're this horrible guy and I'm Mr. Perfect, doing you a favor by not despising you. You think I'm just gonna run out on you the next time the weather changes." He gave another twist to the tire iron, and it spun like a top. He caught it, stared at it, and blew a white puff of breath into the cold night air. "I'm not that weak-minded. I can make my own decisions about people, and I've already made my decision about you. I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up at Lex, his eyes clear and certain, and Lex found himself ridiculously out of breath. The sensation carried a memory of panic with it, and he flattened a hand against the car to keep steady.

God, what a beautiful, trusting moron he was. Lex would have given anything in the world for permission to touch him, just to touch his face. "I'm not going anywhere either," he said, smiling. And the hell of it was, he wasn't. Even worse -- he didn't want to.

Clark smiled back. "In that case, I wouldn't mind a hand with this last lug nut. I think these things were welded on."

"You haven't even broken a sweat. I don't think you're really trying."

"It's cold out. Come on -- you've got _people_ to dry-clean your pants, right? A little dirt won't kill you."

Lex shot him a long look. "I just couldn't be rescued by a kid from a prep school, could I. All right -- what do I do?"

"Put your hands here -- no, higher up, we need the leverage." Clark picked up Lex's hands and moved them, showed him how to grip the bar. Clark's hands were the only warm things in the world; perversely, the touch made Lex shiver. "When I say, push down -- now."

Lex was by no means weak, but it took real strain to get the tire iron moving. When it gave, Clark smiled at him. Lex rolled his eyes in disgust. "I'm not having a good time."

"The rest is easy. I'll take it from here. We'll be on our way in no time."

"I don't make you run board meetings."

"No." Clark grinned and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "But you could, you know. Fair's fair."

"Trust has its limits." Lex stood up and brushed off his pants. They were fine-- he'd been careful. He picked up the flashlight again and held it while Clark switched the tires and tightened all the screws. He was right; the rest looked disturbingly simple. "Are you sure you have those on tight enough?"

Clark threw him a dark look and put the equipment back in the trunk. He paused before closing it, frowning. The light was doing the yellow, sallow thing again, and again, it only made Clark look...strangely compelling. Lex took a step closer, wanting to see his eyes, wondering what color they would be. He reached out slowly -- then clenched his hand into a fist. He made himself breathe.

"What is it, Clark?"

Clark turned, his eyes green and clear and bright. "Can I have the Oreos?"

"Can--" Something in Lex cracked. He was fairly sure it was his sanity. Laughter bubbled up through the fissures, laughter he clamped down on before it could erupt as hysterics. "Yes. Yes, Clark. Please. My Oreos are your Oreos. You won't take a truck, and God only knows what I'm going to do with it now, I wouldn't be caught dead actually driving the thing, but Oreos, yes, by all means. Would you like me to buy you the company that makes them?"

For a second, Clark tilted his head to one side and appeared to be thinking about it. Lex did laugh then, helplessly, shaking his head and never taking his eyes off Clark.

"Are you okay?"

Lex smiled. "I'm either extremely okay, or in serious need of medication. Are we done here?"

"Oh." Clark blinked. "Right, yeah. I'm done." He closed the trunk -- keeping the Oreos with him -- and took the flashlight from Lex. "Ready?"

"Absolutely."

Lex walked around the car to the driver's side. Clark walked a few paces out into the field. "Clark, I was kidding about making you walk home."

"Yeah, I know that. But Georgette's wandering loose out here, and it's not safe for her. I'd better see if I can find her, get her back in Mr. Hayden's barn. Don't worry about me, Lex. I'll be fine."

"I can't just leave you here."

"Sure you can. I'm perfectly safe. I'm more worried about you -- could you try to drive a _little_ slower? These roads weren't made for racing."

"Oh, no." Lex hit the power locks and shut his door. He set the car alarm, waited for the lights to flash, then followed after Clark. "I leave you here alone, and something goes wrong, I get the entire town of Smallville on my doorstep with torches and pitchforks."

"How much did you pay for those shoes?"

Lex groaned. "Can we just do this and get it over with?"

Clark led the way. The ground was uneven, but fairly soft. Even without shoes -- what was wrong with this kid? -- Clark didn't have any trouble. He didn't seem to notice the hardship. It was amazing; somewhere in the world there were gangs of petulant, undisciplined, irresponsible Boy Scouts balancing out Clark Kent's mere existence. Every now and then a furtive crinkle of cellophane attested to Clark's single apparent vice. He didn't belong in the world. He was too good for it.

Maddeningly good. The thought of strangling Clark had a certain charm. It was entirely possible that Lex was falling in love.

They trudged through what felt like miles of empty field. And then they trudged some more. Lex's hands got cold. Then his feet got cold, and then they started to hurt. It was novel for the first few paces, and after that it was a motive for murder. He began to wonder if his shoes might be a handicap. They didn't seem to have proper arch support.

"Look."

He actually had to look behind him. Clark had stopped a few feet back; Lex had continued on in a kind of grass-hypnosis. "You're not _tracking_ that cow, Clark."

"No. Well, yes, I guess I am, kind of. Come look at this." Clark waved with the light. "I think this is...Oh, God."

Lex was beside him instantly, a hand on his shoulder, keeping him upright. "Clark?"

"I'm gonna be sick."

"What is it?" Lex followed the beam of the flashlight with his eyes. "What the hell--"

It had probably been a cat or a dog. From where he crouched, and in that lighting, Lex couldn't tell. The smell hit just as he recognized the mangled mess as something that had once been alive. A sickly green glow pulsed up all around it. He pulled the collar of his sweater up over his nose and put his body between Clark and the carnage.

"What is it?" Clark whispered. "I can't--"

"It's okay." Lex squeezed his shoulder. Clark looked bad; pale, shaking. Exhausted, and scared. The weird visual wasn't worth that much fuss, but the implication was; something in the field tonight was making living things dead.

Lex didn't want to move him, but he felt suddenly exposed. He took the flashlight away from Clark and flicked it off. The glow from the ground was enough light to walk by. "We're okay, Clark. Come on, let's get you back to the car. Bossy will just have to make it on her own tonight."

"Georgette." Clark coughed the word out, and then folded.

"Clark! What the hell is going on?" Lex fell to his knees in the dirt and grass and shifted Clark's head into his lap, holding him while he shook. God, was he epileptic? Was this a seizure? All the things Lex didn't know about Clark Kent, the whole mystery of this kid with his beautiful face and his secrets and his evasions, rose up between them in a single, blinding wall of panic. Lex fought for breath, and clutched Clark's arm with fingers like talons.

"The rocks -- I can't, I can't--"

Lex moved. He moved them both, impossible as that seemed; from somewhere he found the strength to get himself and Clark upright. He got a shoulder under Clark's arm and it turned out Clark weighed every bit as much as it looked like he did. "Come on, Clark, work with me. One foot in front of the other. You're okay. I've got you."

Even with Clark's cooperation, it was like dragging a corpse. Lex shied away from that image with a grim shiver. His skin crawled with the wrongness of it. Clark needed to survive. Lex needed Clark to survive. Clark was his lucky charm, his talisman--

Clark was _his_. And how the hell far had they come, anyway? How far had they walked with Lex just content, for now, to walk beside Clark and Clark content to look for wayward cows and munch Oreos like he thought they'd pass a law against it? When they got back to the car Lex was going to put Clark inside it and find a grocery store and buy every Oreo in the place. Assuming Clark lived.

"Which you will," Lex muttered. "You will, or I'll murder you myself. It's one of the few things I don't have people for."

"Lex, stop."

"We're almost there, Clark." It was easy to lie to the dying. Tell them what they wanted to hear. Easy to lie to the living, too, but somehow less guilt-inducing. "How are you? Is it getting better?"

"Yeah. Just stop for a second, I have to breathe. And we're going the wrong way."

"What?"

"The car. The road. They're behind us."

Lex stopped. He craned his neck to look up at Clark. "Are you sure?"

"Lex, I was...practically born in this field."

"Okay. Okay, just...breathe."

Lex took his own advice. Breathing was smart. Smart, but not easy; while Clark seemed to be breathing okay now, his standing could still use a little work. Lex locked his knees and leaned into Clark and didn't think about how warm Clark was when he was tired and loose and trusting and when the night was cold all around them. "Right," he said, and laughed at himself in the dark. "Because that would be wrong."

"Lex, I can't stand up by myself, and something out here is killing animals in a way that would impress Freddy Krueger, and Bossy got lost, and I don't have any shoes, and...and it's past my curfew! Do you really think this is a good time to be having hysterics?"

"Georgette," Lex corrected. "Do you think you can keep going?"

"As long as you're doing all the work," Clark said, and Lex could see the gleam of his teeth when he grinned. So. The stars weren't completely useless after all.

Clark was more help this time. He was able to lift his own feet, though most of his weight still rested squarely on Lex's shoulders. There was a satisfaction in that, a satisfaction Lex didn't want to examine too closely. Their best speed was still something under a crawl, but Clark was breathing evenly and deeply, which meant Lex was breathing a little better, too. The smell and the glow were starting to fade.

He was sure they were no more than fifty yards from the car when Clark stopped moving.

"What--"

"Shhh." Clark struggled, pushed away from Lex, and stood -- unsteadily. Swaying. Obviously still weak.

"Clark--"

"Lex, it's in front of us."

No question of what 'it' was. Clark's voice was answer enough. In the quiet, in the soft, perpetual wind, a strange calm settled over Lex. He was in a car hurtling toward a boy and the side of a bridge; he was flying through the air, trailing debris like a comet. And he was in a field in the middle of the night with Clark, and Clark was weak.

Lex stepped in front of him. "Be very still."

"God, Lex, what are you doing?"

"Dying first, apparently."

"What do you think you're gonna do? Smirk it to death? Get behind me!"

"Right. So you can protect me by...falling on it."

The sounds rose all around them. Soft at first, and then stronger. Not grunts, not wails, but something in between, traded back and forth through the night. Not just in front of them, which made the first and only altruistic act of Lex's life a little meaningless. He just wasn't meant for martyrdom. Standing in front of Clark wouldn't help anyone, so he just stood as close as possible, with an arm around Clark's waist to help him stay vertical. And still the sounds rose.

Lex turned on the flashlight. Clark made a sound in the back of his throat like nothing Lex had ever heard before. Three...things...stood tall and motionless, one in front, one on either side. Fur and hoof and teeth, and that...noise. Low and mournful and...bucolic?

Lex moved them back a step. And another. And another, and the night was abruptly green. Glowing pebbles, gravel, stones, lit from within. Pulsing with every beat of Clark's heart.

Leaning heavily on Lex, Clark gasped as if he'd been stabbed.

"The rocks," Lex whispered, looking at Clark with wonder and alarm. "Jesus."

"Lex--"

They glowed everywhere. The flashlight picked them out and set them on fire. They cast a sickly glow against Clark's skin, and where their light hit him, Clark's skin _shifted_. He was in pain, but Lex couldn't think, couldn't do anything but watch the change.

"Lex!"

The rocks. Lana's necklace. The meteors. Clark. Images poured in and fit together instantly. The Porsche. The bridge. The field, the cross. The harmless little evasions. Wonder of wonders: Clark Kent could lie after all.

"Lex, it hurts..."

Clark's eyes were wide and pleading, guilty, so much guilt in them, and something was happening to his face, beneath the skin. Lex turned off the light, and he could still see far too clearly. They were alone with the wind and Clark's rocks. Alone with the silhouettes of things both more and less cow-like than Lex wanted to think about. Nothing seemed inclined to attack right away, but Lex wasn't inclined to bet his life on that, and Clark was...failing. "We have to get out of here."

"Did you see? What--"

"You've heard of mad cow disease?" Lex looked at the looming shadow in front of them and swallowed, hard. "We're going to have to find something else to call that."

Clark went still. "Okay." He swallowed hard. "Getting out of here. I like...that plan."

"Which way?"

"Back the way we came. But...not direct." Clark gasped, fighting for every word. "Curve around--"

"The place you first got sick." The place where the rocks were thickest. "Okay, Clark. Okay. Hang onto me if you can."

Lex backed them up. Slow, step by excruciatingly slow step. The creatures didn't follow right away, but there was no way to be sure they wouldn't. Lex wanted to be prepared. He had to drag Clark along again, but he cut perpendicular to their previous path. They'd gone ten yards, maybe fifteen, when Clark started using his feet. The glow of green rocks faded, then disappeared.

Not long after that Clark tugged on Lex's sleeve. "I'm okay."

There wasn't enough light to make a formal judgment on that call, but Clark's voice was a lot better, and he was standing without swaying like a metronome. "You can walk now?"

"Yeah. We're far enough away."

"How do you feel?"

Clark stepped in close and laid a hand on Lex's shoulder. "Better. Honest, Lex, I'm okay. I'm not going to die on you."

Lex looked into the shadows of Clark's eyes. "Assuming we don't get eaten in the next few minutes, I'd really appreciate hearing the story of what happened tonight in your own words, Clark. Curiosity doesn't bring out the best in me."

Clark nodded, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "I hated lying to you anyway."

"That's a shame. You were very good at it."

"Lex, I--Oh, _fuck_\--"

Lex was shoved to the ground. Clark went over him like he wasn't even there, so fast he was nothing but blur. There was a smell Lex couldn't describe. Something like sweet. Something like rot. Something that wasn't really either. He scrabbled backwards, trying to find purchase on the dew-slick grass, heart pounding in his chest so hard it hurt. He couldn't see anything, but he could _hear_\--

A growl. Panting. A _bell_? Clark shouting in pain, cut off on a high, rising note--

Lex pushed to his feet and ran toward that sound. Nothing he could do, nothing, but--_Clark_. It had seemed so close, but he couldn't find him, he couldn't see anything, and he kept running until he tripped, went down in a tangle of legs and grass and dirt. Something warm was under him. It pushed at him, gasping.

"Ow," Clark said. He picked something up from the ground and shook it, making a hollow, metallic _clunk_. "I killed Georgette."

"Clark." Oh, thank God. Gratitude slammed into Lex like a locomotive and left him weak. Shaking. "Clark."

"I think she bit me."

Lex fell onto his back, gazed up at the stars, and laughed.

"It's not funny!" Clark shoved at Lex's side. "I could have lost a finger."

"I don't think you could have."

"If I were normal, I could have. And anyway, it still wasn't any fun."

"If you were normal--" Lex laughed again. Every part of him was awake and aware and laughing. "If you were normal--"

"Lex, are you--"

Lex kissed him. Just leaned over him and pressed him down with all his weight and kissed him, in the dirt and the grass and the dark. Because invulnerable boys with Oreo habits were insane, killer milk cows were insane, and this -- Clark's mouth, chocolate and wet heat -- at the very most this was just a little stupid, so why not.

Silence, silence, except for the laughter in his head, cold everywhere except under him, against him, Clark spread out there like a sacrifice and warm, hot, every part of him in motion, going nowhere. His mouth soft and soft and soft. Lex drove into him, licked into his mouth, evading the question of welcome or refusal, just going where he wanted. He pulled back, looked down into Clark's face, and then did it again. And again. Because Clark wasn't stopping him, and he could have if he'd wanted to. And he wasn't.

"God, Lex--"

"If you say no, I'll find a way to kill you. If it takes the rest of my life, I swear by all that's--"

Clark shook his head and shoved up at Lex, held his hips, held him, and sucked him in.

Nothing like this, nothing ever. Clark's tongue in his mouth, hot and desperate and eager, and Lex had never been this hard, hard as diamond, thrusting down so rough he thought he would break Clark but he couldn't. Couldn't. Delicious friction and heat and dark and nothing he could do would break Clark, nothing he could do would ever leave a mark.

Lex tore at him, crying out, ripped at him, and Clark was open and hard and making these sounds, vicious and desperate, needful sounds. They shot through Lex like bullets.

Lex pushed away. "Jesus." He was shaking. Every part of him was liquid heat and weakness. He needed pressure and he needed wet and he needed Clark's mouth like dry earth needed rain.

"Lex, if you stop now, I'll--"

Lex held him off with one unsteady hand. "We have to get out of this field."

"I think the others ran away--"

"I don't actually give a damn about mortal danger right now, Clark. Right now I just don't want to ravish you in a muddy field next to the corpse of a killer mutant cow. It doesn't exactly suit my style."

"Is it the field that's the problem, or the cow, or the...the ravishing part? Because...I was already kind of ravished five seconds after you kissed me. Sorry. It was great." He grinned. "Let's do it again."

Clark pushed in again and Lex pushed him back again, laughing. He couldn't think. He was laughing, he was so hard he thought he'd shatter, and it felt like the edge of madness and he didn't even care. "You're going to destroy me."

Slowly, Clark pushed Lex's hand down to his side, never taking his eyes off Lex. Proving he could do it, and Lex couldn't stop him. He moved in, holding Lex like he was made of glass, careful. Gentle. He moved in, tested Lex's lips with his tongue. Slipped inside.

Lex groaned, and gave it back to Clark, gave him his tongue, his mouth, anything Clark wanted. He pushed up with his hips and found Clark's hand, hot and strong, so strong, sliding over him again and again until he couldn't take being gentle and just gave up. Just disintegrated. Wrapped himself around Clark like a whore and moaned and _twisted_, taking everything, wanting even more.

"This is good, Lex," Clark whispered against his throat. "Oh, man, this is good. You, like this. Do that again--"

White out. It lashed out of him, flexed him like a bow, and something deep inside him gave way. Thoughts burned up before he could think them, it was wrong and it cut and it was never like this but he felt, it felt--

Waves of heat, muscles gone to water, and he came so hard it scared him. He was going to hurt later, everywhere, in memory of it. He said something, whispered something, he didn't know what, and he laughed and took Clark's mouth and held Clark, held him as hard as he could while the tremors raced through his body. For as long as he could before the cold seeped back in.

The sky overhead was brighter; a half moon had risen while Clark was destroying Lex's mind. He could see more than shadows now. He could see.

"Lex." Clark's voice was soft and unsteady. "Did we just -- Oh, God. We did."

"We did, Clark." He sighed, and dropped his hand from Clark's hair. "Don't say you regret this. I won't believe a word of it."

"I don't, I just--"

"Innocent Farm Boy Dishonored by Worldly Business Magnate." The ground was like a slab of ice; Lex eased out from under Clark and stood up carefully. His clothes were wrecked; his shoes would never be the same. "It'll make quite the headline for the Torch. Probably even rate a spot on the Wall of Weird."

Clark winced. "I was just going to say, I think we squashed the Oreos. But I guess your rich fantasy life makes a better story."

Lex blinked. "Oh." And though he didn't always know when Clark was lying, that sounded like the truth. Clark's face, annoyed and tired and pale, looked like the truth. "Oh. Sorry. Wait -- you're _hungry_?"

"You're _sorry_?"

"Clark, I was just chased by a mutant cow and raped by an unbreakable, underage hero wannabe. I'm a little off-balance."

"Hey, you kissed me first."

"I didn't think you'd cooperate!" Lex rolled his eyes and stood up. He offered Clark a hand to help him up, irritated that politeness required it even though Clark needed no help at all. Probably never would. "You're supposed to be innocent and virginal."

"I was virginal. I'm just not -- geez. I'm not a kid, Lex."

"Actually, you kind of are."

"Not so much that I don't know what I want when it lands on me and sticks its tongue down my throat."

Clark had known what he wanted. As well as Lex had, he'd known. It certainly threw the question of friendship into a different light. "And what do you want now, Clark?"

"I--" Clark frowned, and pushed hair out of his eyes. "You."

Lex nodded. "And I want you. A workable arrangement, if not much of a foundation for a friendship." He smiled sharply, cutting them both. "And you said it wasn't like a business deal."

Clark took a step back. His eyes were huge. Hurt. "I'm going home."

"You said the car was this way."

"I don't need the car, Lex." Clark reached out, like he wanted to touch, but he was too far away. His hand fell back to his side. "I'll see you around."

"Clark--"

A sound, a blur, and he was gone. Just silver blue darkness, and the wind. "Nice fucking night," Lex said, to the grass and the quiet and possibly the two remaining mutant cows.

Nothing answered. He sighed, stuck his hands in his pockets, and started back toward the road.

* * *

The grass was crisp with frost under his feet, crunching as he walked up to the door. The sun was only halfway above the horizon. The morning was pink and gold, and Lex's breath fogged in the air as he knocked and waited for an answer. He hadn't slept and he hadn't eaten and it was way past time for both, but they would keep. He had a package in his hands with an olive branch inside, and it needed delivering.

The answer came in the form of Jonathan Kent. He stood behind the screen door in a jacket and jeans, on his way out to hard labor of some manly sort. He didn't look happy.

"Lex. I'm surprised. I didn't think Luthors got out of bed before noon."

"My father doesn't set my alarm clock for me, Mr. Kent." Lex smiled tightly. "I like to be up early. Mornings are about potential, don't you agree?"

"If you're looking for Clark, he's in the barn." He looked Lex over measuringly. Lex had never felt less comfortable in a sweater and jeans. He'd dressed down to make the Kents feel more comfortable, but obviously not quite far enough. Maybe if he'd tried something with holes in it.

"Thanks," Lex said, not meaning it at all.

"He's got chores to do."

"I won't keep him, sir. I just need to have a word with him before breakfast."

"Tell him it's almost ready, if you don't mind." Jonathan turned away from the door, then stopped and sighed. "We're having waffles. You're welcome to join us, Lex. If you have time."

Lex grinned, genuinely pleased. "Thanks. I will." Waffles, with butter and syrup and the knowledge of how much that invitation cost Kent. It sounded wonderful.

He found Clark in the barn, moving bales of hay for some purpose Lex couldn't even imagine. It was good to watch him work, though. Cold as it was, Clark had taken off his jacket and hung it on a peg by the doors. His red outer shirt hung open over a white T-shirt, stretched tight across his chest. The flex of his arms, the line of his back as he shifted... If Lex weren't careful, he could develop a serious kink for flannel.

He leaned back against the wall, feet crossed at the ankle, just watching. It was really the small pleasures in life that kept a man going. Clark was beautiful in motion, not hiding his strength, not hiding anything. He was beautiful when he stopped and looked up, and noticed Lex watching. Surprise hit his eyes first, and then wariness, and finally concern. They shifted through him like light through clear glass, everything visible.

"Lex."

"Good morning."

"I'm glad--I mean, I was worried. I shouldn't have left you like that. I went back, but you were already gone, and then I went to your house and saw that your car was there, so I didn't...I was pretty sure you were okay. And I didn't want to wake you up."

"I'm fine, Clark. I'm going to have to burn that suit, but otherwise, no harm done."

"I found the other two...whatever they were. They were already dead."

Lex raised his eyebrows. "There was something out there that could kill them? Something not you?"

"I don't know. There weren't any marks on them. I didn't really look closely. They were kind of gross."

"No kidding."

"They were too big to be cows. And they had these _teeth_. Fangs, really. And their feet--" Clark shuddered. "I think their hooves had opposable thumbs."

"Clark, really, you don't have to describe them to me. My nightmares will be vivid enough, I'm sure."

"I'm really sorry, Lex."

"Don't be. Most of my bad dreams involve boardrooms and angry office equipment. I welcome the variety."

Clark grinned, his eyes shining. Lex smiled back. And then Clark's smile faded, starting at the edges and folding inward until it was gone. He blinked and looked away. "Well. I should get this finished."

"Clark--"

"It's almost time for breakfast, and--"

"I brought you something." Lex shoved the package at Clark and stepped back, letting Clark's reflexes protect it. "I promise it's not the Hope Diamond."

Dull-eyed, Clark stared at it. When he looked up, his lips were pressed together in a firm line. "I don't want gifts, Lex."

"Just open it. I'll take it back if you want me to."

Clark held his eyes for a few seconds, then nodded. He opened the card first. "'Dear Clark. I'm bored, want to come over? This is how Luthors say we're sorry. The maniac with the bad manners.'"

Lex waited for Clark's eyes to come up. When they did, Lex's legs nearly failed him. Warm, and a trace of a smile coming back, and Christ. It was going to be okay.

"Open it," he said, smiling helplessly. Beaming at the poor kid. "Go on. You know I give great presents."

Clark ripped the paper off in one quick move, and stared. And laughed. It was good, then. Things were right. "Oreos," Clark said softly.

"Fresh. And not contaminated by killer cows or badly-timed sex."

"So, kind of a bonus there."

"Yeah." Lex stepped closer. "Clark, last night I was an idiot. I'm not used to...being cared about. And I'm not used to sex without motive."

"It was just weird, Lex. I'm not used to sex at all, and I handled it better than you did." Clark blushed when he said that, but didn't back down. "I want to be your friend. And I want--"

"What?"

"Everything. The rest. Whatever that was last night, and whatever...I don't know. I just want all of it. I don't see why that's so wrong."

Lex put a hand on Clark's face. Light sheen of sweat, warmth. Clark was always warm. "It's not wrong. It's just...not my usual style."

"Yeah, well." Clark pushed Lex's hand off him and turned to grab another bale of hay. "I think your usual style sucks, but obviously that's your business."

"Hey." Lex stopped him easily, so easily it was clear Clark wasn't really trying to pull away. "I'm still young enough to be impressionable."

"So?"

"So..." He smiled, and spread his arms wide. "Make an impression. I'm a work in progress, Clark. I can't promise I'll get everything right the first time, but I'm a very good student. I learn quickly, and I remember things. I don't make the same mistakes twice."

Standing there with Clark searching his face, hungry to believe, Lex felt like a pendulum. Falling out of darkness, rising up into light. Falling back. And then Clark's stoic expression shattered at exactly the right moment, and he grinned, and grabbed Lex, and kissed him so deep and hard that actual sex seemed superfluous. Which was good, because Clark had chores. And parents. And a mouth Lex could just have, if he wanted it--

Lex pushed Clark back, glared, and straightened the fall of his jacket. Tried to catch his breath. "There's such a thing as discretion."

"I don't care."

"I do. Your father has a gun."

Clark grinned. "I'd save you. I'd outrun the bullets."

"Would you also outrun the lawsuit?" Lex shook his head. "You're not normal. You never will be. You know that, don't you?"

"I don't mind it so much. Now that you know. It's been me and my parents for so long, I forgot what it was like to be able to talk to somebody." He looked at Lex seriously. "Nobody else knows."

The light in Clark's eyes turned them green. It was suddenly Lex's favorite color. He should have been worried about that, and he tried, but the best he could summon was amusement and a little disgust. He'd forgotten everything his father ever taught him. But then, his father hadn't taught him much worth knowing. Certainly nothing that could have helped him here.

"Your secret's safe with me, Clark."

"I know that. I just mean--I'm just glad you wrecked your car, that's all." He laughed. "That seems wrong."

"No. It's right." It was the way things were supposed to be. It was the way the world wanted things to be. "Everything started there."

"Stay for breakfast," Clark said. He smiled warmly, and he didn't touch Lex, but Lex felt like he'd been touched anyway. "We have to tell my parents about last night, anyway. About the _cows_," he added, rolling his eyes when Lex smirked.

"Your father mentioned waffles. I could eat. Just promise..."

"What?"

"No milk for me." Lex fell into step beside Clark, smiling at the ground. "I've kind of lost my taste for it."


End file.
